I make no promises that I will be posting much more often. I seem to have needed a break. (I also pretty much entirely missed my “blogoversary” in June…how do you spell that, anyway? Oh, well.)

I wish I could say I’ve been tied up with (or by) a new lover, though surprising prospects are on the horizon, I suspect…we’ll see. More may be to follow on that; maybe not. I’ve been doing pretty much what I’ve been doing for the past year or so…family, occasional travel, work, gardening (which is amazing this summer…I love late summer!) These are heady days, indeed!

I don’t think I’ll disclose the location of my private beach because I’d like to keep it that way, in case I want to return some day. If I mentioned the island before, you go dig it up; but the name of my beach will go with me to the crematorium! Now I’ve got my eye on Belize…and another Caribbean beach. Another cottage. I’m even wondering if I might be able to afford it in October of this year and still hit Memphis in November…

I’ve spent some wonderful days with my grandboy, who is an amazing little person. He’s very calm and peaceful and such a joy to play with. Toddlers have to be one of the greatest creations of all time. Can I bottle him up just like his little 16 month-old self is now and keep him that sugary forever? Don’t I wish! Though it might make it a little hard to take him to Europe when he’s a teenager.

I’ve been doing some journaling in an undisclosed location and have done a lot of work in therapy, though I’ve only had a couple of sessions with my therapist in recent months. I mentioned this to her the other day and suggested maybe I should cut back and do some work on my own for a bit. She responded that she’d see me in two weeks.

I’m working on a journal post about things that I am passionate about. It will be a long list. I have a lot to go around.

The post itself is about Miss USA. I know it’s old news but, while I was tooling around YouTube today, I saw the video clip of the tumble Miss USA, Rachel Smith, took in June at the Miss Universe pagent in Mexico. Watch the MSNBC interview, as well. It’s worth it.

This is a woman with amazing grace and composure and I am proud to have her represent my country without reservation. The thing that made the greatest impression on me as I watched the video clip of her fall was that she immediately regained her composure and continued on with hardly a flicker. Look at her face 1.5 seconds after her butt hits the floor. She looks as if nothing ever happened. That is the spirit I’d like to see fostered in American women. Hell, in all women across the globe!

This is a smattering of the stuff I’ve been dealing with over the winter; hence, my hibernation. I doubt I’ll be back much soon, though I do have a draft about what I’ve been up to.

You know, therapy’s got to end eventually, doesn’t it? It does. Doesn’t it?

Posted on an anonymous, private journal of mine, which I’m using as a therapy journal.

My garden is now my self, and my child.

All the diligence I put in to cultivating Michael to be a man of integrity, sincerity, hope is paying off now. He is a fabulous man and a fabulous father. He seems to have my instinct for how to nurture his son while fostering his intellect and his ultimate independence.

I really was very adept at encouraging Michael to be all he can, learn as much as he’s able, investigate as much as he desires. I also taught him, as best as I was able, to respect others, to be open to the world around him. I tried to encourage him to be open to his feelings; he denied any desire at the time but I see how open he is in his relationship with Jen and with his son.

I really did a good job nurturing and cultivating my fledgling to become a real man, a good man. Mostly I listened to my heart telling me all the things I wished I’d received as a child…unconditional love and acceptance, encouragement of my unusual bents, interests and proclivities, exposure to many different things and experiences in the world, being there and (mostly) paying attention to him.

Now he’s done. Not only have I gotten him through college, seen him married and a father, I now see him as a man considering and planning a future with his family. His emotional separation is complete. I have done a good job; no, I have created a masterpiece.

His honesty in our talk following the birthday party. The way he opens his eyes to the 600-pound gorilla, just like his mama, and deals effectively with it, unlike his mama, historically. He’s self-assured enough to be vulnerable, to assert what he wants or needs, to work on an issue pro-actively. What a man!

So, I wash my hands of that task. Except for getting him interested in politics (which might be more successful after he’s done grad school) there’s nothing more to be done there. Now, on to the next project.

My garden.

I’m communing with the earth this spring. I’m listening to her and taking instruction about what she needs here, how I can help there. I’m now talking about putting in a drainage system which will create a (sometimes) water feature through my terraced cut flower and rock gardens. That diversion would meet up with the primary diversion below the ivy-covered stump then trickle down along the half-buried drainage pipe that is (now, thanks to my efforts) carrying the water from the downspout to the creek.

I’m dreaming big and wild this year and the work will be backbreaking but when I’m done, there will be an environment that could be beautifully tended by another special soul or allowed to be swallowed back into nature with lovely surprises springing up in unexpected places at unexpected times.

So, Lisa, who was my salvation, was cut off in the prime of her life and just prior to the start of my own. Lisa the Savior. Lisa, my Out!

I paid my dues…over and over again. I danced the dance like a marionette! Just who did I do the dance for, though? Yes, it was Mom and Dad’s dance, their song, but which was the one I must support?

The weakling. Dad.

Dad’s dead now.

The one I was allied with, the one with whose care I was charged. That one is dead.

The one that was my responsibility is dead.

The other? Is it my duty to save my mother? My brother? Or should the allies continue to dance the dance they choose.

I listen to my own drummer. I dance to my own music. I cannot dance that way any more.

I now dance much more in tune with my child’s music. Well, not his actual music, mind you, but emotionally…you know. Metaphor.

My Garden-Redux

Now I am allowing that incredible capacity I have for nurturing to flow where it will right now and all flow is toward the garden! (Well, there’s a little stuff going on inside too but that’s for another time.)

I speak with the garden, with the water that runs through it, with the perennials I or others before me have planted, encouraging them. I listen to the creek and the earth and the trees and plants as they tell me what they need then I provide it.

I believe I am turning into a serious gardener.

And it’s the yummiest thing I’ve felt yet!

I think I know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a woman who gardens. Either tends veggie patches or designs and builds wonderful habitats and stunning masses of natural beauty. I’d love to do any of this professionally but will content myself with being a nurse while I develop into a Master Gardener. Once I retire, all bets are off! I could be an entrepreneur…South Jersey native plant nursery lady. It’s about time!

Something to think about.

Of course, I could adapt that to being the Rochester-area native plant nursery lady if my grandson is growing up in the Syracuse vicinity.

Okay, is the lesson you’ve been waiting for…the one about knowing I don’t have to save the world, I only have to do what I can to make it a better place and I already do that? Oh that happened months ago.

Let’s move back to sex, shall we?

And hypnosis.

; )

So, there’s been a lot on my mind and a lot I’ve been dealing with as well as planning out my fabulous garden and doing random acts of gardening kindness in my community.

Final tidbit...here is James and Julia's "home." That video sounds like a shrewd move now, doesn't it? Who needs advertising when you can dirty dance?

Oh, pay no attention to this. I'm just setting it here so I won't forget it.

As for me, I walked Sadie, my "canine companion", in the drizzle this evening with my umbrella swinging from its leather strap by my side. The bathroom is presently warming and my pyjamas are toasting on the towel bar. I intend to get very warm and very snuggly very soon. Tonight, the wind will howl and the rain pelt and I will sleep, safe and serenely undisturbed.

I can't say when I'll be back next. Know that I'm doing alright. I'm back in therapy after a five-month break. Back on twelve-hour shifts, too, and feeling like a newborn. Sometimes I'm almost giddy on the job! In my present, semi-dormant state, I fear I may be getting a little Moley. I hope this doesn't Drag-on too long.

I turn fifty next week. Did I mention that? Feel free to send greetings. (::wonders how to get a PayPal button::) I'll be in NYC, secure in the anonymity of the eight million or so. I wouldn't be the least surprised if I happened to post some more, providing I get my laptop's wireless adapter up and running again.

Wish me luck.

Off to the showers, which sounds a little kinky...

(Really final aside: My pc used to face into the corner. After my dad died a year ago, I rearranged. Now it faces the road, the world. Just thought you might find that interesting... Mmmmm...maybe a little "treat" before that shower...)

There’s fog in the city of brotherly love and its immediate environs tonight. I walked outside with Sadie on leash into a soup of near-London proportions. Okay, maybe not London but I certainly thought, “This is what New Orleans must be like in ‘winter.’ ” Funny, but when I was down there in November one year I liked to have froze my bloody arse off, but that’s another story.

So, the fog here might be a mere consomme compared to Europe, but it’s powerful just the same. This is a fog which captures the sound, muffles and alters it slightly, and holds it down near the earth’s ear. You can hear it all…a dog bark from the other side of town, the planes taking off from the airport. The drip, drip, drip of the water that should be running down the downspout had it not released its grip on its moorings last week. The sound of a horn from the river or the Boeing plant. The far-off wail of a fire siren

Our steps were squishy and loud in the night, Sadie’s and mine.

A couple arguing in the parking lot.

One couldn’t help but strain the ears to catch the frequent “fuck”s from the young man and talk about “her” from the young woman. I took it to be a third party argument. At first I wanted the issue to be resolved but I reconsidered. I think I would prefer that the girl arguing with the man in the fog, who was possibly terribly in love with him and decidedly more worthy than the woman in the discussion, have her wish granted. I desire the young man to realize the error of his ways and kiss the young woman deeply and passionately. I wished for them to ride off, clippety-clop, into the fog on a white steed (hers).

Instead, another couple had joined the discussion by the time Sadie and I had made our loop and I believe I heard the sound of laughter. I’d had visions of the young man driving hellishly through the lot and ending up on a trauma stretcher at my old place of employ. Well, not quite visions but a suggestion that that possibility lie down one of the possible trajectories from the event. But that’s Einsteinian and also for another post.

I’ve spent the day; the winter thus far, really; hibernating. I’ve been taking a little journey inside myself and finding out all sorts of yummy stuff but that, too, is for another post. Today, Saturday that is, I slept until almost 2, had an Angus bacon cheddar burger for my meal, nodded off to some of my favorite sounds in the stereo and watched what may have been one of the greatest football games I’ve ever seen take place, live, in New Orleans, Louisiana…the NFC playoff game between my Philadelphia Eagles and the New Orleans Saints. I bet you this one winds up on some best playoff games ever dvd, but that’s yet another post.

I’ve still got my Christmas tree and lights up and am enjoying one more night of their sweet, warm glow. () They’ll have to come down tomorrow, shortly after whatever time I wake up. It’s 4AM and I still haven’t gotten in the tub…

I just now ate a very slightly stale white cream with chocolate icing doughnut washed down but ice cold milk in a frosted mug. I keep two mugs in the freezer, mostly for soda. Oh, and I also had the most delicious orgasm. Wow! It just doesn’t get much better than this.

Now it’s off to a candlelit bubble bath then off to bed in my silky cotton sheets. I’ve determined that what I want most right now for my body to be as soft and smooth from head to toe; nails filed, legs shaved, heels pumiced, hair slick; as possible. A variety of scents and lotions and textures then a blissful nights sleep.Funny how sometimes you have to go into the fog to see clearly inside.

Yes, I’ve been holed up here, yes I’ve been cocooning, but isn’t that what one has to do at certain stages of the game? Hell, I turn fifty in less than two months. If it was ever time for an epiphany…

So, I’m sorry I haven’t been writing or even reading much. I’ll be back around again in the near future, I believe. Hell, I’ve got at least three new post ideas in this one alone. If you know anything about me at all, you should have guessed that it’s rather hard for me to shut up. I’m especially loud in the fog. I hope my grandboy is just like me!

I once said I’d like my grandson to tell me one day that I’m “cool,” or whatever the corresponding terminology of the day is. I realized the other day is I want my grandson to say to me, “Grandma, you’re not a grownup!”

You stopped by this site on Saturday or Sunday using those words as your search term.

I hope you had some fun while you were here but I doubt you found the answer to your query.

Disclaimer: The following information is given for its anecdotal value only and is not meant to be perceived as offering medical advice or practicing my profession. In other words, I’m warning you to take this at your own risk and, if you get fucked up as a result and think about suing my fucking ass, you can kiss my rosy ass.

Anyway, “tooth abscess keflex,” I have learned in my experience as an ER nurse that the large majority of physicians I’ve worked with like to prescribe Keflex for skin wounds. Apparently, it covers a lot of the bacteria that regularly colonize the skin.

For dental problems, they usually prescribe a penicillin, usually Pen-Vee K. If Pen-Vee K doesn’t do the trick, they usually move to Clindamycin. I’ve seen my oral surgeon do just that when I had a mandibular cellulitis last summer. Unfortunately, Clindamycin is a very potent antibiotic which can nearly sterilize the gut, so developing Clostridium difficile following a course of Clinda is a distinct possibility if your bowel contains c. diff.

If you are a woman, any of the ‘cillin’s can interfere with hormonal contraceptives. If you use the pill, patch, Depo, etc, you’ll need to use barrier contraceptives (condom or diaphragm) for the duration of the therapy. I would continue until my next cycle, or at least for three extra days, just to be safe.

For prevention of c. diff. and the vaginal yeast infections many women suffer during or following a course of antibiotics, eat a yogurt every day (with active cultures) or get some acidophilus pearls/pills from a health-food store and use as directed. The refrigerated kind of acidophilus works best. I’d continue with the yogurt or acidophilus for 2 or 3 days after the antibiotics, a minimum of 7 days following a course of a long-acting abtibiotic like Rocephin or Zithromax.

The only cure for dental issues is to see a dentist / dental clinic and have the work done. Go see a dentist!

If you show up to my ER once, I will tell you that personally.

If you present yourself to me on two or more occasions with the same complaint, I will yell at you.

I’m figuring things out here! I just found the place where I can edit the CSS. So all I have to do first is go learn CSS. In a way, I’ll miss my old blogger template. On the other hand, I think it’s so much nicer on WordPress…the look is cleaner, there are more options for drop-downs and such.

Oh this should be fun! I can figure out how to import all my CmIB pictures and have pages for the tings I like, like the rules of engagement and the “secret link” in NOP. All the links and features I really like. Oh, I can’t wait!
Now, If I can just get used to how their editor works, we can get this party going.